Thief's Honour
by ShadowBlade10
Summary: Its a short story about a thief who runs into trouble when he steals from the wrong people at the wrong time. Would like to know what you thought, thanks.


**Thief's Honour**

Golden Pole Street, in the city of Higtava, was the most renowned road in all of the Empire of Bretonia. The street was lined with the homes of the rich and wealthy, the houses towering over those of the peasant's surrounding buildings. All the houses had large courtyards and high gates surrounding them, though they were already in a walled city. This road was where all the City Council members lived, as well as their families and servants. One such home lay in near total darkness; the Councilman who owned it was out at an important meeting.

The guards who patrolled the courtyard of this house were up and alert, walking their shifts around the yard. Fully dressed in armour, shield and sword. The crest of the shields all bore the mark of Bretonia, a red eagle spreading its wings. Travis hated dearly stealing from royalty, but tonight was an opportunity he couldn't miss.

Dressed fully in black he climbed the outside wall with little effort, nothing more than a shadow to the guards patrolling the grounds. He jumped off the wall a few feet from the ground and landed noiselessly. He had trained himself since he could remember to be quiet; since he lacked the big burly arms of most boys he had taught himself to be fast and quiet.

Huddling down he waited for the first set of guards to pass by before continuing. The houses servant door, off to the side, had a simple three pin tumbler for a lock. It took Travis a whole minute and a half to pick it and sneak past. The corridor had a rug laid down the length of the floor. Using it to quiet his steps further he carefully crept down the corridor. There was no light, other than that of the moon through the windows. Travis opened the first door that appeared to his right, mapping the house in his head in case of a need for a quick escape. The room was the main living quarters. The room was fully furnished and had paintings hanging off the walls.

Proceeding into the room, Travis quickly found several golden cups lying on a side table. He quickly took those and placed them into a bag he carried on his back. Along one wall was a dartboard with ten silver fledged darts. He quickly placed the darts into his bag and continued looking around.

After pocketing several other things, he proceeded back to the door. Turning around at the doorway to check to see if he'd missed anything something caught his eyes. Walking up to one of the many torches that adorned the walls, he saw that two were gold rather than silver. Travis placed a hand on each one, attempting to steal these as well, but when he pulled, the entire torch and bracket swung down. Backing away, he heard a metallic click and quickly ducked down. His small, well-weighted daggers were in his hands faster than most can blink.

The wall between the golden torches cracked open and slide apart, revealing a secret passageway that seemed to lead to the bowels of the earth. Travis had only heard of things like these, and wasn't about to follow it down to certain death. His hand reached out to activate the switch in the torches, but before it could get there he heard voices close to the room he was in now. The guards had heard him.

Cursing quietly, Travis searched for another way out of the room. The windows were too high to climb, and there was only one door. Well, next to the secret passage.

"Demons and Fire!" Travis quickly pulled down on the torch and slipped into the passage before the walls closed on him. In his mind, there was nothing worse than being caught.

The passage was made of stone and seemed to drop for an eternity, hopeful that it would lead to a discrete exit, Travis continued going down.

Eventually he saw a dim light at the bottom of the circular staircase to hell, as Travis thought to call it. Stepping carefully, he came to the bottom landing that had a floor no longer than the tread of the stairs and stopped at an old wooden door. The light was coming from the bottom of the door, as was a slight chanting. The chanting sounded like it was muffled, as if from far away.

"Just great, somehow these stairs have led me to some type of church" Travis whispered to himself. Taking a seat at the stairs he waited for the light to soften, meaning that candles were being blown out.

His gaze went to the top of the stair and he started thinking about why he even tried to steal from the rich. "Because I'm too big of an ass, that's why" he answered himself. The rich always had guards, and workers. You should always steal from the poor, or those who don't guard their purse. It was the first thing he'd learnt and it was his second rule, which he broke nearly as soon as he'd heard of the councilman leaving his house nearly unattended.

His first rule was simple, look out for numero uno and screw everybody else. Thinking on it, robbing this house was probably still the best thing he'd ever done, and was likely going to get him a small fortune. Max, a merchant who he sold his wares to loved to hear the stories of how he got the items. Max paid well for them too, and those golden cups were worth a fortune themselves.

Slowly the chanting died down to a murmur, and the light went down to a level at which he could easily slip past a few monks. Placing his ear to the small lock, Travis quickly pulled out his lock pick and unlocked the door quietly. Opening it a crack he positioned himself to look into the room.

The murmur suddenly went dead. Travis pulled out his left dagger, worrying he'd been caught. Then he heard a strange sound, like a muffled cry. Peering through the crack he could see a alter surrounded on the opposite side by a group of seven monks, all robed in black with a dark hood over their heads. A quarter of the hundred or so candles around them were lit. But none of this drew his attention. It was riveted on the stone alter the length of a human body.

There, on top of the alter; a young woman lay bound to it, wrists and feet tethered to either end. She was dressed in everyday work clothes, and it looked to Travis as if these "monks" had just plucked her off the street. Her mouth was clasped in some kind of gag, and her height was indecipherable while she was tied to the alter. The only thing Travis could really see was that she had long red hair. Glancing around the room Travis saw another door leading out of the room. If he just waited for the monks to be done doing whatever he could easily sneak after them and get out how they got in. at least that was the plan until the monk in the middle stepped forward and pulled off his hood. It was the councilman!

"My dear lady, we offer your soul up to the Eternal Master; Khaine, Lord of Murder. May you writhe in eternal suffering."

The councilman drew a long dagger and placed it right over the woman's heart. She tried to squirm away, but was bound too tight. The gag in the mouth blocked her screams out.

"Damnation!" Travis swore quietly. Everyone has heard of the worship of Khaine, of those who killed others in His name, but Travis had never placed anything in the stories. And if half of them were true this woman was going to suffer for eternity by the hand of Khaine in the afterlife. Travis repeated his first rule to himself, but he just couldn't calm down. They were going to kill her in cold blood, right in front of his eyes. So what, big deal, you've killed before, the rational part of his mind reminded him, just wait it out.

Travis gave his head a shake. It was simply wrong to let this happen to that woman. Maybe if he saved her, he'd get a reward or something. Damn it, why can't anything ever be easy? The councilman raised the blade above his head. Travis drew both his daggers.

"Son, Of, A, Whore!" Travis rammed the door with his shoulder as he flew through the now open door. The councilman and his group were caught unawares and looked up, surprised by the thief's sudden entrance.

Travis raised his left dagger and threw it at the councilman; the blade flew true and sunk deep into the man's throat. He let out a gurgle and fell to the floor like a sac of grain. Several other monks let out a cry of panic and ran from the room, exiting through the other door. Two men still stood their ground. They were huge, like giants from legends. The one closest to Travis ran at him going full speed.

Travis prepared himself for the blow. As the man collided with Travis, he grabbed his forearm and dodged out of the way. Using the other mans power he spun and threw the giant at the nearest brick wall. The man let out a hoarse scream before his face collided with the wall, making a dull thud. The giant fell hard onto the stone floor.

The remaining giant looked worried now. Travis took a menacing step towards him, and he responded by letting out a whimper and running off.

"Wimp" Travis said to no one in particular. Stepping up to the alter, he used his remaining dagger to cut the binding rope. As soon as the woman was free she practically jumped on top of him yelling her thanks. Travis grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her away.

What he intended to say was, look lady, I saved you only to see how much I could get for returning you home, but what came out was; "It's okay, your safe now. Just promise me you won't get into any more occultist business. Lets get you home."

Travis bent over the body of the dead councilman and pulled his dagger out, returning it to its proper sheath. Hand in hand, Travis and the young woman proceeded out the door and into a dark alley. He escorted her all the way home; truly caring whether she made it there or not.


End file.
